Becoming Quinn Fabray
by DefyingGravity1402
Summary: This is a sequel to my story Unravelling Quinn Fabray and follows on from where that story finished. Quinn and Santana are a couple and are in their sophomore year at college, but as always, the path to true love never runs smoothly and there are hurdles to overcome. Once again, Quinntana end game. Rated M for later chapters. Possible spoilers up to and including season 5.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: Here's the sequel I promised when I finished my previous story... hope you like it, and sorry it took so long to get started!_

**Chapter One: New Beginnings**

Sometimes, Quinn Fabray felt like she spent half her life behind the wheel of her car. It wasn't that she especially minded driving, in fact, she usually appreciated the time to herself to think. She simply resented the fact that every minute spent commuting, was a minute less she had to spend with Santana. She spent the whole week at school looking forward to her last class getting out at two p.m. on Fridays, so that she could spend the best part of the next two hours on the I-95. She would get to spend two wonderful days with her amazing girlfriend, before repeating the whole journey in reverse at dawn on Monday mornings.

This particular Friday was different though. Finals were over for the fall semester and Quinn was making the eighty mile journey south west from New Haven to New York for the last time. Quinn grinned to herself as she glanced down at the letter on her passenger seat to which she had affixed a big red bow. After much persuasion, Quinn had finally been able to convince her mother to sign the necessary paperwork and hand over her credit card so that Quinn could complete her transfer to Columbia for the spring semester. It had taken two weeks of wrangling, pleading and pouting from Quinn to convince her mom that Columbia was the best place for her to be. Of course, if her mom knew the real reason Quinn was so desperate to transfer, she wouldn't have been in with a chance. Her mom had been reluctant to agree to the transfer in the first place because she didn't approve of Quinn's friends in New York. Only after Quinn had agreed to find an apartment in Manhattan did her mom finally cave in and sign the papers.

Quinn hadn't told Santana that she'd been accepted to Columbia. She'd actually gotten into the school way back at the start of the fall semester, but she and Santana were broken up at the time, and when they got back together in October, Quinn had been reluctant to put too much pressure on the relationship until they were both ready. Over the last month especially, things had never been better between them, and Quinn had finally decided that she needed to get over her anxiety and take the next step. She was planning to give the acceptance letter to Santana as an early Christmas present.

She was heading to New York for the weekend before she, Santana, and Rachel headed back to Lima for the holidays. Kurt and Blaine were flying out to Vale on Sunday for a short skiing vacation with Blaine's family before Christmas, and her friends had decided to have their own Christmas celebration on Saturday. Quinn was looking forward to these festivities much more than the real Christmas in twelve days time, when it would be just her and her mom in their big, cold house.

As she'd had to pack up the entire contents of her dorm room, Quinn had left New Haven later than usual, and darkness had fallen by the time she pulled up outside the rundown apartment building. Snow was falling lightly, but the ground was wet and it hadn't started to stick yet. Quinn texted Santana to let her know that she'd arrived, and started the arduous task of unpacking her car.

When they'd first discussed their Christmas vacation plans and Quinn had decided to drive home to Lima, via New York, she'd asked Santana if she could leave most of her belongings in the apartment. She'd used the excuse of fitting Rachel and Santana plus their luggage into the car, but in truth she wasn't planning to bring her car back to New York after winter break. She wouldn't need it in Manhattan, nor would she have any place to keep it.

By the time she'd traipsed across the slushy sidewalk for the third time to deposit neatly labelled boxes of clothes and books in the foyer, Santana, Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine arrived to help.

"What are you doing?" Santana chastised, without even pausing to say hello. She took the box of books out of Quinn's arms with a glare. "I told you to leave the heavy boxes to us."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine, San," she said with an indulgent sigh. "I know my limits." At the start of the summer, when Quinn had first arrived in New York, she'd overdone the lifting and carrying because she hadn't wanted to let on that she needed help. To all intents and purposes, she was fully recovered from her car accident of almost two years ago, but she knew she still had to be careful. She appreciated Santana's concern, but she hated to be treated like a china doll.

With her friends' help, Quinn's belongings were soon safely ensconced in the apartment, and she managed to sneak the letter from Columbia into the dresser drawer Santana kept clear for her in her sleeping area.

Rachel was in full festive swing, not letting a little thing like being Jewish get in her way of enjoying Christmas traditions as well as Hanukkah ones. She hummed Christmas carols whilst making eggnog, as Quinn curled happily against Santana on the couch, discussing finals with her friends.

"I'm pretty sure I did okay," she said with a shrug. "My classes were all pretty easy this semester."

"Did you decide what you're going to take next semester yet?" Santana asked, after detailing her own plans for the spring semester at NYU, and explaining animatedly about a dance class she hoped to get into that was dependant on her final grades this semester. She entwined her fingers with Quinn's as Quinn rested her head contentedly on her girlfriend's shoulder.

"Not yet," Quinn admitted, with a smile Santana couldn't see. Kurt noticed though and he looked at her with a curious expression.

"I thought you had your heart set on Professor What's-his-name's Shakespeare class?" Santana continued obliviously, her tone making it clear that she thought Quinn's interest in the sixteenth century playwright was just plain weird.

"Maybe," Quinn replied enigmatically. "How about you, Kurt?"

Luckily, Kurt had his ideal spring schedule already planned out and Quinn was able to listen to him rhapsodize until Rachel was finished heating the eggnog at which point the conversation turned to Christmas and Hanukkah plans.

Quinn listened sleepily, without really involving herself in the conversation as Santana stroked her arm gently. Every so often, Santana would kiss her lightly on her forehead, or her cheek, or the back of her hand, and Quinn felt delightful shivers down her spine at the contact. It was all so different than it had been six months earlier. Back then, Quinn couldn't have imagined that she'd be cuddling with Santana in front of her friends. She'd wanted Santana for such a long time, but she'd never quite allowed herself to believe it could happen. As she snuggled up happily against Santana, Quinn's mind drifted back to high school, and she could hardly believe she was the same girl who'd suppressed her true feelings for so long. Back then, a single word or look from Santana was enough to send her into a funk for days.

_"Lay off Britt," Santana had admonished the glee club, when Brittany had announced the reason why she didn't want them to sing Britney Spears songs at the start of junior year. Quinn had rolled her eyes at Brittany's absurd reasoning, but Santana, as always, had jumped to her defense. At the time, Quinn had tried to convince herself that she just wanted someone to stand up for her the way Santana protected Brittany, but as the week had gone on, she had felt more and more isolated and depressed. _

_Then Rachel had chosen to sing that God-awful Paramore song at the end of the week. It had been all Quinn could do to keep from bursting into tears; the lyrics of the song had touched a chord in her and for the briefest of moments she'd allowed herself to admit that the words of the song matched the way she felt for Santana. She'd stared straight ahead, willing herself not to give herself away by looking in Santana's direction; then she'd noticed Puck staring at her and wondered if the truth was somehow written over her face. She'd panicked and locked her feelings away even more deeply inside. Later of course, she'd realized that there was no way Puck could've known what she was thinking – he had the emotional depth of a pencil after all, but she'd still resolved to work harder to keep those feelings at bay._

It was amazing to her now that she'd been able to keep a lid on her true feelings for as long as she did, but then she'd spent most of her high school career simply terrified that everyone would figure out just how much of a fraud she really was. It had been exhausting, and looking back, Quinn had no idea how she'd managed it. Now, she was comfortable in her own skin, and she was happy and proud to be able to admit that she was in love with Santana Lopez.

The only person she couldn't tell the truth to was her mother. If it hadn't been for the fact that her mom now controlled the purse strings allowing her to get an education, Quinn would have told her in a heart beat. Strangely enough, Santana was even more adamant than Quinn that she shouldn't tell her mom. She guessed it was because Santana knew that Quinn's mom would never be able to accept the truth about their relationship. To Santana family was the most important thing in her life, and she didn't want Quinn to lose the little family she had left. Santana knew first hand the heartbreak of losing a family member just because of who she loved.

"Quinn?" Santana had noticed that Quinn was off in her own little world, and was shaking her gently. "You okay, baby?" she asked her softly, her dark eyes tinged with concern. She was used to Quinn getting lost in her thoughts by now, but it didn't stop her from worrying altogether. Their friends were engaged in a lively conversation about what was the best Christmas movie and hadn't noticed Quinn's detachment.

"I'm fine," Quinn replied, brushing her lips lightly across Santana's. "Just thinking about going home for Christmas, that's all. It's going to be hard being away from you at night."

"You can come stay over at my place," Santana promised. "And I'll sneak over to your house after your mom goes to sleep. It'll be romantic, you'll see."

Quinn couldn't help but smile at Santana's optimism.

"I love you," she whispered softly. Then it was Santana's turn to smile. She detangled herself from Quinn and stood up with an exaggerated yawn.

"Quinn's tired," she announced. "We're going to bed." Quinn blushed at her friends amused glances. It was barely nine p.m. and they knew full well that sleep was not what was on Santana's mind. Still, she allowed Santana to pull her up and lead her by the hand into their bedroom. Before Santana let the drapes close, she fixed a stern gaze on Rachel. "Berry, I know that you have the restraint of the average five year old when it comes to the festive season, and we've all agreed to go along with your pre-Christmas Christmas Day celebrations tomorrow, but so help me God, if you wake us up at dawn, I will burn all of your Barbra Streisand memorabilia," she threatened. Rachel, used to Santana's threats by now, merely shrugged angelically and Quinn giggled.

Once they were alone, Santana's mood abruptly changed and she started kissing Quinn as though she hadn't seen her in weeks. With only the briefest twinge of embarrassment that her friends must have known Santana's intentions for their early night, Quinn lost herself in the moment and allowed Santana's hands to wander pleasurably over her body as she quickly divested Quinn of her clothes. Somehow, they managed to keep quiet as they gave themselves to each other, and by the time their desire was sated, the whole apartment was dark, save for the moonlight reflecting on the steadily falling snow outside the window.

"It's after midnight," Quinn murmured, looking at the illuminated numbers on Santana's alarm clock. "Merry Christmas."

Santana groaned.

"Not you too," she complained. "Christmas is over a week away, Q."

Quinn shook her head.

"I want us to celebrate Christmas together," she explained. "You, and the others, you're like my family. I won't get to see any of you on Christmas Day, so tomorrow will have to suffice. It'll be fun, you'll see."

Santana chuckled indulgently but planted a soft kiss against Quinn's lips.

"Merry Christmas, geek," she replied with a sigh. "Now, go to sleep or _Santa_ won't bring you any gifts."

Quinn snuggled down obligingly under the covers and wrapped her arms around Santana. The next few weeks in Lima would be difficult, she had no doubt, but here and now, safe and loved in Santana's embrace, Quinn was happy.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews and follows - hope you all like chapter two..._

**Chapter Two: Christmas in New York**

Quinn was rudely awoken shortly before eight a.m. by an enthusiastic chorus of _We Wish You a Merry Christmas_ from the living area. It appeared Rachel had decided not to heed Santana's warning, and had in fact enlisted Kurt as a co-conspirator. Groaning, Quinn quickly pulled on a faded Yale sweatshirt and shorts before padding barefoot into the living room. Luckily, Santana was a much heavier sleeper than Quinn, and hadn't stirred yet.

Rachel and Kurt were in the kitchen, taking out what seemed to be every pan they owned from the cupboards as they sang.

"Rachel!" hissed Quinn, clamping a hand over the brunette's mouth. "Do you have a death wish?"

"But it's Christmas," Rachel pouted when Quinn released her. "I want to get started on making dinner so that we have plenty of time to open gifts later."

Quinn sighed.

"Rachel, it's not even light outside yet," she reasoned. "If you want to eat at seven we don't even need to start cooking until this afternoon. I promise you that if you want a friendly, agreeable Santana, you're going to have to let her sleep for at least another couple of hours."

"Okay," Rachel relented. "I promise I'll be quiet, as long as you help me with chopping the vegetables for dinner."

Shaking her head in resignation, Quinn set to work peeling and chopping a mountain of carrots that seemed like they would feed twenty people, not just the five of them – and she didn't even like carrots.

When Santana finally surfaced and came in search of her missing girlfriend, the sun had risen and was streaming through the loft's windows, condensation trickling down the panes and pooling on the window sills.

Santana's dark eyes gleamed mischievously and her mouth curled into a gleeful smirk as she took in the sight of Rachel, paying homage to her high school wardrobe, in a bright red skirt, argyle knee socks and a hideous reindeer sweater, but before she could make her undoubtedly witty but barbed comment Quinn captured her lips in a good morning kiss.

"Be nice," she murmured against Santana's mouth as they parted. Santana sighed but heeded Quinn's warning and thankfully kept her comments on Rachel's dress sense to herself.

Now that she was no longer at risk of disturbing her girlfriend, Quinn headed back into their sleeping area to get her shower stuff and pick out some clothes. Santana followed and wrapped her arms around Quinn from behind, nuzzling her neck pleasurably as her hands slipped under Quinn's sweatshirt, eliciting shivery sensations across the soft skin of her stomach. Quinn giggled as Santana's hand moved higher to cup her breast, as she suckled on Quinn's neck hard enough to leave a mark. Her free hand was inching under the waist band of Quinn's shorts.

"Santana, we can't," she whispered breathlessly, half-heartedly trying to disentangle herself from her girlfriend, when what she really wanted to do was tear off both of their clothes and lose herself in the moment. She wriggled around to face Santana and planted a soft but chaste kiss against her lips. "Later, I promise you, I'm all yours." Santana pouted but retracted her hands to respectable places, not a moment too soon as Rachel burst through the drapes into the room, practically skipping with excitement. Quinn had a fleeting thought that Rachel was doing it on purpose – playing a game to see how far she could push Santana before she broke.

"Come on, you two, we're waiting to open presents," she said, flashing them a mega-watt smile. Santana glared at the interruption but Quinn's hand on her arm seemed to soothe her anger.

"I need to take a shower, Rach," Quinn told her with an indulgent sigh, as though talking to a hyperactive three year old. "Can't you wait twenty minutes?"

Rachel shook her head and grabbed Quinn by the hand, dragging her towards the living area. "No," she said emphatically. "I've already waited _forever_, besides, unwrapping presents in your pajamas is traditional."

"One, that's easy to say when _you're _not the one in pajamas, and two, we were never allowed to open presents until after church," Quinn mused but allowed Rachel to pull her into the living room, where Kurt and Blaine were already dutifully waiting. Blaine too had been accosted whilst still in his pajamas, Quinn was pleased to note.

She sat down on the floor and Santana snuggled in behind her, placing her legs either side of Quinn's. Kurt beamed at the display of affection between them, and Quinn felt her cheeks flush happily.

The next half hour was lost to a flurry of wrapping paper as gifts were opened and delighted in. Kurt, in particular, was thrilled with the Prada cufflinks that Rachel, Quinn, and Santana had clubbed together to buy; and Quinn turned the deepest shade of red when she opened the beautiful but lacy and very risqué underwear Santana had bought for her. Santana simply laughed and shrugged unabashedly at Quinn's discomfort, but then it was her turn to blush as she opened the locket Quinn had picked out and had inscribed for her with the simple phrase _you are my heart_. Santana kissed her so deeply that their friends cleared their throats and looked away embarrassed, but for once Quinn didn't care.

The letter from Columbia was still safely ensconced in Quinn's dresser drawer as she was planning to give it to Santana that night once they were alone, but the anticipation was enough to make Quinn giddy with excitement as the day progressed.

She joined in with Rachel and Kurt's Christmas carol medley until Santana threatened to rip all of their tongues out. Sidling up to her girlfriend, Quinn leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"But then you'd miss out on what I have planned for tonight," she murmured, delighting as she heard Santana's breath hitch. "My tongue is kind of crucial to proceedings." She chuckled and skipped off to check on the progress of dinner, before Santana could react in any meaningful way.

Quinn could not remember any of her family Christmases as a child being half as enjoyable as her faux-Christmas with her friends. Everything was perfect, a chaotic day filled with music and laughter, and she gave Rachel a run for her money in the "most-excitable" stakes as the celebrations went on. Her family Christmases had all been ordered, organised, and predictable – church, then dinner, then gifts which she would dutifully thank her parents for before escaping to her bedroom alone.

By the evening, all of their energy had (thankfully, according to Santana) dropped and they sat in the living room in companionable peace and quiet, watching Christmas specials on TV and ignoring the huge pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen.

Kurt and Blaine drifted off to bed first as they would need to get up early the next morning to leave for their ski trip, and Rachel disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower. Quinn suddenly felt inexplicably nervous about the Columbia letter in her dresser, and her inner control freak flared up as she disentangled herself from Santana and headed into the kitchen to make a start on the dishes that they'd all agreed to leave until the morning. Suddenly, the mess and the clutter was making her anxious. She knew she was being silly, but she couldn't stop the _what if_'s from creeping into her mind. What if Santana was upset that Quinn didn't discuss her transfer plans with her first? Sure, they'd talked about it during the summer, but since they'd gotten back together the subject hadn't come up once. Or, what if Santana didn't want her to move to New York at all? What if she was happy with the status quo? What if it was too much pressure, too soon?

She could feel Santana's eyes on her from the couch but it was several minutes before her girlfriend made her move. Quinn was up to her elbows in soapy water when Santana sidled up behind her and rested her chin on Quinn's shoulder.

"'S'up, Q?" she murmured against Quinn's ear. "What's with the sudden domestic goddess routine?"

Quinn bit her lower lip. She couldn't explain it to Santana when she didn't really understand it herself. Without pressing the issue any further, Santana brought her hands to Quinn's shoulders and started to rub away the tension in her muscles, and instantly Quinn felt herself start to relax under her girlfriend's ministrations.

A low moan escaped her lips as Santana's talented fingers found a particularly tight knot, and Santana chuckled softly, pressing the length of her body against Quinn's back.

"You know, I could do a much better job of this if you were lying down," Santana advised, "and wearing fewer clothes," she added mischievously, causing Quinn to shiver at the thought of Santana's hands stroking and caressing her bare skin. "Come to bed," Santana demanded, obviously not convinced that Quinn understood her not-so-subtle innuendo.

"I have something for you first," Quinn said breathlessly, taking the plunge before she could chicken out again. She turned to face the smirking brunette.

"Is it something dirty?" Santana asked, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Quinn slapped her playfully.

"No, Gutter-brain," she chastised gently. Then she grinned. "That part comes after." She silently added the word _hopefully_ as she prayed that Santana would be happy about her college transfer. She'd been so sure that Santana would be thrilled, but now that the time had come, insecurities were creeping in. Her mind instantly imagined the worst possible outcomes and suddenly it was all she could think about.

Swallowing her fears and wiping her soapy hands, Quinn led Santana into the bedroom and, shutting out her anxiety she shoved the letter rather unceremoniously into Santana's hands. It wasn't exactly the way she'd planned, and her heart thumped rapidly in her chest as she watched Santana's face for clues to her reaction.

Anxiety gave way to impatience as Santana continued to study the letter for what seemed to Quinn like an age. Finally, Santana looked up from the page, an unreadable expression in her dark eyes. Then, she grabbed Quinn around the waist and spun her around in a dizzying circle, capturing her lips in a breathless kiss. Quinn felt all the tension leave her body in a rush as Santana ran her tongue teasingly over Quinn's lower lip, requesting access to her mouth. Quinn responded willingly, tangling her fingers into Santana's hair and deepening their connection. When they finally parted, both girls were breathless and Santana's eyes were shining.

"You're really moving here?" Santana asked disbelievingly. Quinn nodded.

"Well, to Manhattan," she corrected with a small shrug. "Commuting from here to Columbia for work over the summer nearly killed me, but we'll be so much closer, and I'll have an apartment so if you wanted to stay over…" she broke off and blushed furiously, "or if you just wanted to… um… stay… period…"

Santana grinned at her.

"You're so cute when you're tongue-tied," she said with a laugh. "We'll talk about it over winter break, okay?" She smiled as she read the letter again. "It's going to be amazing, Q," she whispered. "I can't wait to share a bed with you more than two nights a week."

Quinn felt a rush of heat at Santana's words.

"So, don't wait," she said, fixing her gaze on Santana through her eyelashes. "We have a bed right here."

"We do," Santana agreed, wetting her lips and letting her eyes wander hungrily over Quinn's figure as she started to remove her clothes, tugging her dress over her head and tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

"And I seem to remember you promising me a massage," Quinn added huskily, as she unhooked her bra and let it fall at her feet.

"Later," Santana said eagerly, throwing her full weight against Quinn so that they fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

When their desire for each other was finally sated, Quinn snuggled sleepily against her girlfriend, revelling in the warmth of her body. She was always cold when she slept alone.

"Best Christmas ever," she mumbled into Santana's shoulder, planting a gentle kiss against her bare skin.

"Right back at ya, Q," Santana replied, stifling a yawn.

"Still waiting for my massage though," Quinn teased, grinning in the darkness.

"Go to sleep," Santana ordered. Quinn giggled but obediently closed her eyes and curled up tighter against her girlfriend, wishing they weren't leaving for Lima the next day. She couldn't wait to start her new life in New York with the girl she loved more than anything in the world, but the next three weeks in Ohio felt like a trial she was being forced to endure, and she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: Thank you for reading / following / reviewing my story so far - it means a lot :) Here's chapter three...**_

**Chapter Three: Home for the Holidays**

The following morning was fraught with chaos and frayed tempers as the five occupants of the loft all tried to pack for their respective trips. Kurt spent twenty minutes arguing with Rachel that he should get priority over using the bathroom as he and Blaine had the deadline of their flight time, and in the meantime Santana slipped by them unnoticed and barricaded herself into the room for half an hour. Both Kurt and Rachel were soon hammering on the door yelling not so veiled threats regarding what they would do when Santana finally deigned to reappear.

Quinn tried to stay out of the way, busying herself in the disaster area of the kitchen, but she did eventually give Rachel and Kurt, and her own eardrums, a helping hand by turning on the hot water to the kitchen sink full blast, wincing slightly and silently apologizing to Santana when she heard the shriek that meant the water supply to the shower had suddenly turned icy cold.

Kurt and Blaine left for the airport at ten-thirty and Quinn was anxious to get their own journey underway. The trip would take them at least ten hours, and if the weather worsened it would be considerably longer. She was seriously regretting not insisting on them all taking the train by the time Rachel and Santana had finished fighting over every square inch of space in her car and they were finally ready to leave.

"But I get carsick if I sit in the back," Rachel was still complaining when they crossed the state line into Pennsylvania.

"Bite me," Santana responded petulantly from the front passenger seat. Quinn sighed and rubbed her temple, idly picturing herself and Santana in the future with teenage children of their own, listening to them bicker and tease on long car journeys. The thought of children with Santana made her smile to herself, something which didn't go unnoticed by her attentive girlfriend. "What's so funny, Q?" Santana asked, reaching over to play with Quinn's hair affectionately.

"Oh, nothing," Quinn replied quickly, hoping that she wasn't blushing too badly. She definitely wasn't ready to have the _marriage and kids_ conversation just yet, especially not in a confined space and with witnesses. "Why don't you guys put some music on?"

Santana groaned, and dramatically slapped a hand to her forehead.

"What did you have to go and put an idea like that into Berry's head for?" she sighed, wrinkling her nose as though in pain.

Quinn glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Rachel already fishing out her iPod with a huge grin on her face.

"I'm _so _glad you suggested it," she gushed cheerfully. "I've already taking the liberty of preparing a number of playlists for our road trip that I think you'll find both entertaining and educational. For instance, you both could do with brushing up your knowledge of the Broadway greats."

Quinn stroked Santana's arm soothingly and tried not to laugh as she focussed on the road. She shot her girlfriend a look that clearly said _be nice_ and Santana grudgingly took Rachel's iPod and hooked it up to the car stereo, with an exaggerated scowl.

Twenty minutes later, Quinn was still pondering why Santana had given up the fight with Rachel so easily. Rachel was singing along enthusiastically to a selection of songs Quinn had never heard of, but Santana had become very quiet, which usually meant that she was plotting something.

"I need coffee," Santana announced suddenly, as they approached a sign for a gas station. "Pull over there, Q."

Dutifully, Quinn did as asked, and she'd barely put on the parking brake when Santana jumped out of the car.

"Do you guys want anything?" Santana asked sweetly, and again Quinn got the sense that Santana was up to something, but she dismissed the thought and both she and Rachel gave her their coffee orders. When Santana returned to the car a few minutes later, she was practically skipping and Quinn knew for certain that her girlfriend was planning something nefarious. She shot her a warning look but Santana simply smiled angelically and handed Rachel her de-caffeinated, non-fat, soy milk coffee.

As Quinn rejoined the interstate, Rachel resumed her singing and Santana sipped her coffee nonchalantly. It wasn't long until something changed however. Rachel stifled a yawn, and then a second; and then she forgot the words to _A Little Fall of Rain _from Les Miserablés, which even Quinn knew.

Santana was pretending not to have noticed, but Quinn was starting to put the pieces together.

"What did you give her?" she hissed softly, waiting for the climax of the song so that Rachel wouldn't over hear. Santana just grinned and Quinn sighed, knowing that her hunch was right.

Quinn rolled her eyes and shut off the music, plunging the car into silence.

"You look tired, Rach," she said, glancing in the mirror to make eye contact with her friend. "Why don't you take a nap for a little while?"

"But it's… n-not even lunch t-time yet," Rachel yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, you've been so busy with the show and organizing the Christmas celebrations," Quinn placated her, hoping that Rachel wasn't going to figure out what Santana had done. She _really _didn't want to be around for the fallout if Rachel realized she'd been drugged, even if it was only (she prayed to God) sleeping pills.

"You can use my sweater as a pillow?" Santana offered. Quinn glared at her unrepentant girlfriend, but luckily Rachel was too out of it to notice Santana's uncharacteristic concern, and she took the offered sweatshirt gratefully, balling it up against the window and leaning her head against it. Seconds later, she was snoring softly.

With one more glance to check that Rachel was definitely asleep, Quinn pursed her lips and smacked Santana on the arm.

"I can't believe you did that!" she announced, shaking her head at the brunette. "Santana, Rachel's going to go nuts if she figures it out."

Santana rested her head against Quinn's shoulder, trying but failing to look contrite, a soft grin playing at her lips.

"I did it for you, baby," she murmured, her breath warm against Quinn's neck. "I know how conscious you are about road safety and I couldn't let you drive with Berry twittering like a demented canary the whole way back to Lima." She had her hand on Quinn's knee and she trailed it teasingly towards Quinn's inner thigh. Quinn bit her lower lip as goose bumps rose up all over her body.

Quinn grabbed Santana's hand firmly before it could reach too far under her dress, and carefully but firmly removed it, placing it back into Santana's lap and raising an eyebrow at her girlfriend.

"Yes, I am concerned with road safety," she said, her tone low and warning but unable to keep from smiling, "so whatever you're thinking, you may as well forget it. It isn't going to happen."

"We could find somewhere secluded to stop?" Santana suggested hopefully, and Quinn laughed out loud at her audacity.

"You really want to have sex with me in the car with Rachel asleep in the back seat?" she asked incredulously.

"She'll be out for hours," Santana reassured hopefully. Shaking her head, Quinn giggled and squeezed Santana's hand affectionately.

"I repeat, not going to happen," she said, even as her mind conjured up images that made her shiver and her pulse quicken. "But I love that you want me so badly that you're willing to drug your roommate. I can honestly say no one's ever done that for me before."

Despite herself, Santana started to chuckle.

"Well, you are pretty irresistible," she offered, intertwining their fingers. "It's going to be amazing having you in New York full time."

"You won't get sick of me?" Quinn asked lightly, although a tiny part of her was on tenterhooks waiting for Santana's response.

"Not a chance," Santana confirmed and Quinn beamed.

Santana settled her head back against Quinn's shoulder and held fast to her hand as Quinn drove along the dull, straight section of interstate that would take them back to Ohio. Already, Quinn couldn't think of it as home any longer. Home was New York for her now.

Despite Quinn's worries about the weather, they were in luck and not a single snow flake had fallen by the time they reached the outskirts of Lima. They'd made good time and it was only a little after nine p.m. when they dropped a bleary-eyed Rachel off at her Dads' house. Rachel had slept for almost the whole journey, causing Quinn a great deal of anxiety although Santana consistently swore that she'd only given her the recommended dose of medication. Luckily, Rachel still seemed to accept Quinn's explanation that it was just her hectic lifestyle finally catching up with her, and she hugged both Quinn and Santana goodbye with promises of catching up with them the next day.

Quinn turned the car around and doubled back in the direction of Santana's family home. Geographically, it would have made much more sense to drop off Santana first as Rachel's house was much closer to Quinn's, but Quinn wasn't about to miss the opportunity to say a private goodbye to her girlfriend.

Both girls were quiet as Quinn drove through the empty streets, taking in the houses festooned with Christmas lights and the festive lawn displays. When Quinn finally pulled up at Santana's house, her fingers were shaking as she turned off the engine. She _really _didn't want to say goodbye to Santana, even though she knew it would just be until the morning when they'd planned to meet for brunch. She wanted to turn the car around and head straight back to New York with Santana, to spend all night and all the following day making love with her beautiful girlfriend in the empty loft. It scared her how intense her feelings were, and she had to fight her old urge to shut down and pretend she was numb.

Instead, she buried herself against Santana's shoulder and breathed in the scent that was uniquely her. Santana planted a soft kiss on the top of Quinn's head and then cupped a hand under a chin to bring Quinn's mouth up to meet her own. They kissed, long and languidly, their hands caressing innocently… and then less innocently as Santana's fingertips again were working their way along Quinn's inner thigh.

Reluctantly, Quinn pulled away, panting, as she didn't want to start something they couldn't finish.

"I'll see you in the morning," she said hoarsely, blinking back tears. Santana frowned in concern.

"What is it?" she asked softly, stroking Quinn's cheeks with the pads of her thumbs and holding her in place when Quinn tried to look away.

"You'll think I'm crazy," Quinn admitted ruefully.

"Well…" Santana shrugged ruefully and Quinn laughed despite herself.

"Don't be mean," she chastised, pouting slightly. "It's just, I'm so happy right now and I'm scared that something's going to come along and change everything. I don't want to lose you, Santana."

Santana kissed her fiercely.

"You're not going to lose me," she whispered against Quinn's parted lips. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise." She tucked Quinn's hair behind her ear tenderly. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll risk life and limb sneaking into your room to stay with you every night while we're home."

Quinn smiled softly.

"You don't need to do that," she said, feeling herself start to relax as Santana continued to stroke her face. "Well, not _every _night at least, but I'm not going to turn you away if you do happen to show up at my window."

"Try and keep me away," Santana murmured, moving in for another kiss, but a porch light going on in front of Santana's house distracted Quinn, and Santana missed her mouth. "Hey!" Santana complained but Quinn gestured towards the house.

"I think your Mom's spotted the car," she said with a sigh. It was too dark and they were too far from the front door for anyone to have witnessed their intimate exchange but the girls pulled apart reluctantly and climbed out of the car stiffly after their long journey to go greet Santana's family.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: I might not have time to post the next chapter until Sunday, but for now, here is chapter four - enjoy! :)**_

**Chapter Four: Meet the Parents**

Despite Quinn's worries, life in Lima quickly settled into a routine. Shortly after Quinn's mother left for work in the mornings, Santana would arrive at her house, making sure that Quinn knew and appreciated the concession she was making by getting up before noon. The girls spent all day, every day together – sometimes going to the mall to do some Christmas shopping, sometimes meeting up with friends, and sometimes snuggling on Quinn's couch watching a movie (those were Quinn's favorite kind of days).

Five days after their arrival in Lima, Santana invited Quinn to dinner with her parents. Quinn was incredibly nervous about walking into the Lopez house for the first time as Santana's girlfriend, and she spent the whole day fretting and worrying to the extent that Santana finally threatened to un-invite her.

Santana had told her parents about their relationship weeks ago, and Quinn had previously spent so much time at the Lopez house during her cheerleading days that she'd grown completely relaxed with them, but she suddenly felt like she was meeting them for the first time, and she was paranoid about making a good impression.

She anxiously changed her outfit six times whilst Santana lay on Quinn's bed and enjoyed the show of her girlfriend in her underwear. Throwing her latest rejected ensemble onto the floor in a fit of pique, and clad in only her navy blue bra and panties, Quinn glared into her closet.

"I haven't got anything to wear," she announced, as Santana padded up behind her and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist. Instantly, Quinn's skin reacted to the contact, and her breathing quickened.

"I don't know why you're worrying," Santana said nonchalantly, kissing the spot just beneath Quinn's left ear that never failed to make her moan appreciatively. "My Mom loves you already. When we were on the Cheerios she wanted to give me up and adopt you instead."

Quinn smiled, remembering Maribel saying exactly that on more than one occasion.

"But it's different now," she insisted, the panic bubbling up again. "I wasn't your girlfriend back then."

"My Mom still loves you," Santana said dismissively. "Granted, not as much as I love you, even when you're acting like a crazy person!" She kissed Quinn's neck again, suckling hard enough to leave a mark and Quinn jumped away with a shriek.

"Santana! I cannot meet your Mom with a hickey on my neck!" she cried, scandalized. Santana was undeterred. She reached for Quinn and pulled her close, bringing their mouths together in a deep and fervent kiss. "We have to… leave… in thirty minutes… or we'll be late," Quinn panted between kisses as Santana's nimble fingers unhooked her bra. "I mean it, San," she warned, gasping as Santana palmed her breasts and squeezed gently. "If you make me late, I'll… I'll…"

"You'll what?" Santana asked with a smirk. She dropped to her knees and began to peel down Quinn's underwear.

"I'll… um…" Quinn tried to focus but it was impossible when Santana's hands were exploring her body with such surety and confidence. Then Santana kissed, then licked, then sucked hard against her inner thigh and Quinn gave up trying.

"Are hickeys okay if I put them in places my Mom can't see?" Santana asked huskily and all Quinn could do was nod wordlessly and cling onto her closet door to try to keep standing. Santana walked her fingers teasingly up Quinn's right leg, trailing them over the red mark her mouth had just left and Quinn couldn't help but moan when they brushed lightly between her thighs.

Just when she thought her knees would surely buckle, Santana suddenly stopped her ministrations. Before Quinn could protest, Santana stood up and melded their bodies, drawing her lips over Quinn's in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Together, they tumbled down onto Quinn's bed, even as Santana's fingers found their way back to where Quinn wanted them the most.

Quinn tugged impatiently at Santana's top, finding it incredibly unfair that her beautiful girlfriend still got to be fully dressed. Santana simply chuckled and wriggled her way down Quinn's body out of reach.

"We're short on time, remember," she teased, her tongue darting out to taste Quinn's belly button. Working her way down, Santana left a matching love bite on Quinn's left thigh, before her mouth joined her fingers at Quinn's center. With deft strokes of her oh-so-talented fingers and tongue, Santana sought out all the places she'd learned would make Quinn gasp and moan, as Quinn clung to desperately to the sheets and trembled with need.

When Santana's fingers found that perfect spot inside, Quinn bit down painfully on her lip to keep from crying out. Neither the loft nor Quinn's old dorm room had afforded them much in the way of privacy, and she had become accustomed to keeping quiet during sex, though Santana never seemed to even attempt to. Santana paused momentarily to meet Quinn's gaze, and a shiver of pleasure ran through Quinn at the undisguised lust in Santana's dark eyes.

"We're all alone here, and I want to hear you, baby," Santana whispered hoarsely, and all the muscles in Quinn's stomach clenched with a flood of arousal. Santana licked her lips before continuing to alternately suckle and lick Quinn's most intimate places, whilst her fingers resumed their practiced rhythm inside her.

Quinn's breathing was increasingly rapid and shallow as her body came closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Instead of swallowing her moans as usual, Quinn allowed them to escape her throat, the sound of her own pleasure heightening her arousal even further.

"Tell me what you want," Santana purred silkily, as she tangled her free hand with Quinn's and squeezed tightly.

"I… want… oh God… just don't stop…" Quinn mumbled, almost incoherent as the waves of pleasure coursing through her came close to their crescendo. "Just don't stop touching me… oh God!" With one final curl of Santana's fingers inside her, Quinn tumbled over the edge, crying out as she rode out her orgasm against Santana's hand and mouth.

Santana grinned up at Quinn with a self-satisfied smirk as Quinn fought to control her irregular breathing and the trembling that still moved through her body. Moving back up her body, Santana captured Quinn's mouth and kissed her languidly, and Quinn could taste herself on Santana's tongue. When they parted, Quinn pouted at her.

"That was not fair, Santana," she chastised gently, trying to look annoyed but Santana merely giggled.

"I think the words you were looking for are 'thank you'," Santana countered, stroking Quinn's mussed hair.

"We're going to be late to dinner," Quinn whined, but she continued to lie beside Santana contentedly.

"So get up and get dressed," Santana advised nonchalantly. Quinn blushed and buried her head against Santana's shoulder.

"I will… when my legs start working again," she mumbled, and Santana snorted with laughter.

Twenty minutes later, Santana pulled up her car outside her parents' house. Quinn had been planning to bring her own car to save Santana from having to drive her home later, but had subsequently decided to allow Santana to drive her, as she still felt a little lightheaded from their interlude.

Santana was still very pleased with herself, pointing out that at least she'd managed to get Quinn's mind off finding the perfect outfit. Quinn had taken the quickest shower of her life and thrown on the first dress she could find, a navy and white patterned tea-dress, adding a wide belt that matched her favorite tan-colored boots. She'd teamed it with a white cardigan, and pulled her hair back into a respectable ponytail at the base of her neck.

"You look perfect," Santana reassured her as Quinn checked her mascara in the rear-view mirror. There hadn't been time for her to re-do her make up before they'd left, and Quinn just hoped her Mom didn't go into her usually immaculate room, that was currently strewn with discarded clothing and rumpled bed sheets, before Quinn got home and tidied up.

Hand-in-hand, the girls approached the front door and Santana let them in.

"Mom, we're here!" she yelled, and laughed at Quinn when she jumped.

Mrs Lopez came into the hallway to greet them, and Quinn found herself slightly in awe of the elegant and beautiful woman. She suddenly felt like the fifteen year old version of herself she'd been when she'd first met Maribel Lopez – trying to hide her anxieties and insecurities behind a curtain of bravado and indifference, rather than the almost twenty year old, ivy league college girl she actually was.

She needn't have worried. Maribel swept her up into a warm hug, before bemoaning just how thin both Quinn and Santana had gotten living away from home, and insisting that they both needed feeding up before she'd let them go back to New York. Quinn had never had much to do with Santana's father, so she was a little apprehensive as Maribel ushered them into the living room to greet him, but like Santana's mother, he was friendly and warm towards her.

Over dinner, Quinn stayed largely quiet and listened to Santana's parents' stories about their daughter. Their obvious unconditional love for her made Quinn like them even more than she already did. She wished her own family could've been that way, and it stung a little to think they never would, but she wasn't jealous – she was happy for her girlfriend. Maribel told Quinn about Santana's early childhood adventures – it seemed she'd been kicked out of one activity after another – first soccer, then softball, then karate – for being what Santana's father referred to as 'spirited'.

"And then, when Santana was seven she announced she wanted to be a Girl Scout," Maribel was saying, as they finished up their desserts. "Of course, we knew it would be a disaster but she was so insistent. She lasted one day. When I came to pick her up they asked me not to bring her back until she learned to control herself."

Santana shrugged unrepentantly as Quinn giggled.

"What on earth did you do to get kicked out of the Girl Scouts?" she chuckled, shaking her head.

"It was not my fault," Santana insisted, holding up her hands and shrugging. "They were so serious with all their little rules and regulations… it was funny, that's all."

"Apparently, she laughed uncontrollably at everything they did for two hours," Maribel said with a sigh. "She wouldn't join in with any of it. So, when I asked her why she'd even wanted to be a Girl Scout in the first place, do you know what she said?"

Quinn shook her head and snickered as Santana rolled her eyes.

"Mom, I was seven," she reminded her drily. Maribel patted her daughter's hand but ignored her words.

"She said she wanted the free cookies," Maribel explained with a sigh. "She'd seen her cousin with all these boxes of cookies she was selling, and Santana thought that she'd been given them as a gift."

As Santana's parents dissolved into laughter at their daughter's expense, Santana stood up abruptly and grabbed Quinn by the hand.

"We have to go," she announced. "We'll be late for the party." Quinn had forgotten that Puck was having a Christmas party that night – she hadn't responded to his text message a few days earlier, figuring that Santana wouldn't want to go to anything involving Puck. So, she guessed that Santana had simply had enough of the trip down memory lane and wanted a convenient excuse to escape.

"Thank you for dinner," she said to Santana's parents, as her girlfriend practically dragged her from the dining room and towards the stairs.

Once they were safely ensconced in Santana's room, Quinn threw herself down on Santana's bed and Santana fell dramatically against the closed door.

"Oh my God," she groaned as Quinn chuckled. "I'm glad I got you out of there before my Mom could bring out the baby photos!"

Quinn hugged Santana's pillow to her chest and smirked.

"I think it's cute that your parents wanted to share all your embarrassing childhood stories," she mused. Santana glared in response.

"That's because they weren't _your _embarrassing childhood stories!" She flopped down onto the bed beside Quinn, propping herself up on her elbows. "I bet you don't even have any embarrassing childhood stories – perfect princess Lucy Q."

"Hardly," Quinn said drily, rolling her eyes. "So, what _are _we doing tonight?" Santana looked confused.

"Puck's party," she said with a frown. "You got his text, right?"

"I didn't think you'd want to go," Quinn admitted. Even though Puck had apologized profusely to Santana, and tried to take all the blame for taking advantage of Quinn the previous summer, things were still decidedly frosty between them. Santana sighed.

"Yes, Puck is a devious, exploitative, snake," she admitted, "but most of our friends will be there, and there're free drinks which I plan on taking full advantage of. I figure he owes me. Don't you want to go?"

Quinn considered the question. On the one hand, she had no great desire to see Puck ever again – she hadn't laid eyes on him since the disastrous night in October – but on the other hand, she wanted to catch up with her friends, and apart from a group dinner at Breadstix between Christmas and New Year, there weren't any other group activities planned.

"Well, I guess there will be a lot of people there," she said thoughtfully, "and it's not like we'd have to really spend a lot of time with Puck. We probably wouldn't even have to see him at all." With exaggerated effort, she pulled herself into a sitting position, and helped Santana up. "Okay, let's do it," she said decisively, and Santana grinned at her.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the feedback so far - I'm glad people are enjoying the story. Here's chapter five...**_

******Chapter Five: Trust**

Since Santana was so keen to take advantage of the free alcohol available at Puck's party, Quinn volunteered to drive Santana's car. Despite agreeing to the party, she was beginning to have reservations as she pulled into Puck's street. A drunk Santana was an uninhibited Santana, and an uninhibited Santana was an uncontrollable Santana. Although Santana swore blind that she had forgiven (but definitely not forgotten) Puck's actions after Quinn's Dad had died, Quinn was not at all sure that her girlfriend wouldn't take advantage of any opportunity for retribution.

With that in mind, Quinn kept a tight hold of Santana's hand as they made their way through the crowd of people in Puck's hallway and kitchen. It seemed Puck had invited the whole school given the sheer volume of already inebriated teenagers. Scouring the crowd for people they knew, Quinn spotted Mike and Tina talking to Mercedes in a corner of the living room and pulled Santana through the sea of bodies to go say hello.

The stereo blasted out dance music so loud that they had to shout to be heard. Quinn hadn't seen Mike and Tina since they had dropped her off at her Mom's house after her break up with Santana, so she shyly said hello. Tina hugged her excitedly and after a moment's hesitation she quickly embraced Santana. Tina had started her freshman year at UCLA and she'd discovered a new inner confidence as she chattered animatedly about her classes. She and Mercedes shared a dance class, and it transpired that Mercedes had discovered a latent natural ability, having always shirked the dance training in high school as much as possible.

The party had been in full swing for an hour or so and they'd been joined by Rachel, Sam and Artie when conversation turned to their absent friends.

"Kurt and Blaine are in Vale," Rachel supplied when Mercedes asked after them. "They're home on Sunday and they said they'd be coming to dinner at Breadstix on the twenty-ninth."

"Puck and Finn are having an X-Box tournament in the rec room," Santana said, rolling her eyes. She'd disappeared to investigate a while earlier when Puck had been nowhere to be found. "Boys," she said scathingly. Mike, Sam, and Artie looked like they didn't know whether to be aggrieved on behalf of their gender or upset that they hadn't been invited to the tournament.

"Has anyone heard from Brittany?" Rachel asked.

"She's not coming home until Monday," Santana answered immediately but Sam shook his head at her.

"No, she got home last Monday," he countered. "I saw her at the mall yesterday. She said she'd be here tonight but I haven't seen her."

Quinn felt Santana tense up beside her and looked at her girlfriend quizzically. Santana's face was impassive but Quinn knew her well enough to know something was wrong.

"Did she say how she's getting on at MIT?" Tina asked Sam, and he shook his head.

"Well, Santana visited her last month and said she was having a fantastic time," Rachel responded, glancing at her roommate. "Didn't you, Santana?"

Santana didn't appear to be listening. Quinn felt her stomach clench nervously. She grabbed Santana by the hand, and with a lame excuse about needing some fresh air, she dragged Santana outside.

"What's going on?" she asked, as soon as they were standing on the front porch. Santana shifted uncomfortably and refused to meet her gaze. "Santana, you're scaring me," Quinn said anxiously.

"I didn't tell Brittany." Quinn barely heard the words come out of Santana's mouth, as she spoke so quietly, her eyes fixed on the ground.

Quinn felt a cold chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. She remembered the trip Santana had taken to see Brittany at school two weeks before finals. Once Quinn and Santana's relationship was back on track, Santana had wanted to tell Brittany about them, worried she might hear it from someone else. Quinn had suggested the trip, and Santana had leapt at the chance.

_"Are you sure you're okay with that?" Santana had asked wonderingly. The girls had been lying on Santana's bed in the loft, their planned shopping trip into Manhattan temporarily rained off, and they'd spent the afternoon simply enjoying being together. Quinn had been trying to read her book but Santana was bored and kept trying to engage her in conversation. That conversation had turned to Brittany and her continued ignorance regarding their relationship. "I mean, I really don't want to tell her over the phone, she deserves more than that, but…"_

_"I trust you, San," Quinn had told her simply. "Brittany's still our friend and she deserves to know about us. I don't want her to find out on the grapevine either."_

_Santana had hugged her and kissed her, and proclaimed her to be the best girlfriend of all time, and Quinn hadn't wanted to disabuse her of that. Then, Santana's hands had wandered from their innocent placing on Quinn's waist, and all thoughts of Brittany had gone out of the window._

With the pressure of finals weighing down on her, Quinn didn't see Santana in between her return from Massachusetts and the faux-Christmas celebrations. She'd Skyped her girlfriend and asked how telling Brittany had gone, and she remembered that Santana had been vague and distant about it. At the time, Quinn had been distracted by impending final exams, and she'd figured that it hadn't gone well and Santana just didn't want to talk about it. She'd never guessed that Santana hadn't even raised the issue at all.

"Why?" she asked her girlfriend sadly. Her voice sounded unnaturally calm, but inside she was in turmoil.

"When I got there, she'd just broken up with this guy she was seeing," Santana said, sighing as she seemed to realize how lame her excuse sounded. "She was so sad, I couldn't add to it."

"You think she's going to be sad about us?" Quinn asked softly. Santana pulled a face to show she regretted her choice of words.

"No, I didn't mean that, it's just… well, Britt's… she's important to me," Santana explained hesitantly. "I couldn't just blurt it out. I need to lead up to it. I need to do it right."

"I get that, Santana," Quinn said, fighting to stay in control of her emotions. "But you're going to have to tell her sometime. Everybody else has known for months. You had plenty of opportunities to tell her. How long did you want to keep it a secret?"

"We're meeting for coffee on Monday," Santana explained hurriedly. "I was going to tell her then, I promise. And I meant to tell you… but I thought you'd be mad at me."

"I'm not mad," Quinn said, and she meant it. "I'm hurt, and I'm confused, but I'm not mad. San, Brittany's your best friend and you have this whole part of your life you've been keeping from her for so long."

"I didn't want to tell her until I was sure about us," Santana blurted out and Quinn froze. Her hands began to tremble and she balled them into fists at her sides. Santana instantly began to apologize when she realized what she'd said but Quinn could barely hear her over the blood pounding in her ears. "Q, I'm sorry – that's not what I meant…" Santana babbled as Quinn stood motionless on the porch. "I just meant…"

"It's okay," Quinn heard herself say, her voice oddly flat. "I get it. You still don't trust me. You think that this is just a phase for me."

"No… well… yes, in the beginning I wondered," Santana admitted reluctantly. "But not now. Quinn, I love you, and I believe you when you say you love me." She grasped Quinn's hands tightly and tried to pull her into an embrace, but Quinn withdrew from her, and wrapped her arms around herself, the trembling spreading to her whole body.

Santana's dark eyes filled with anguish and Quinn wanted nothing more than to take her into her arms and tell her that she understood, but something held her back.

"So why didn't you want to share that with your best friend?" Quinn asked again. Santana shook her head as a single tear trickled down her cheek, reflecting the moonlight.

"I don't know," she admitted, and she looked so lost that Quinn truly believed that she meant what she said. Quinn bit down hard on her lower lip and fought back her own tears.

"It's not fair, San," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "It's not fair to Brittany or to me. I… I'm going to go home… I don't feel like partying and I can't be around you right now."

"Quinn, please," begged Santana; tears streaming down her cheeks now. Quinn took a step towards her girlfriend and gently wiped the tears away. Santana's skin was icy.

"You're freezing," Quinn said gently. "You should go back inside. I'll call you tomorrow." She wanted to say more, to comfort Santana and tell her that it would be okay, but she couldn't. Not yet. Santana's words still stung and Quinn needed some time to process.

She turned to go and saw Brittany walking up the driveway, smiling brightly as she noticed her friends. Her smile faded as she approached them and realized that they were fighting. Feeling panic well up inside her, Quinn had to fight her natural urge to run away, the way she usually did when things got complicated. "Hey, Brittany," she greeted, trying to sound nonchalant, as Santana surreptitiously wiped away her tears. "It's great to see you." She gave the taller blonde a hug.

"Are you okay?" Brittany asked, frowning as she tried to figure out what was going on. The tension in the air was palpable and Santana had yet to say a word. "You're fighting again, aren't you? Are you going to start slapping each other?"

"No," Quinn said softly. She smiled sadly at Santana. "We're fine, I just don't feel like partying so I'm going to go home, but we'll catch up soon, I promise. I want to hear all about MIT, but why don't you catch up with Santana now?" Santana nodded.

"Yeah, we should talk, Britt," she said nervously.

With one last lingering look at her girlfriend, Quinn turned away and headed down the driveway.

It was only when she got to the end of the street that she realized she was on the opposite side of town from her house, and without a ride home. She didn't have enough cash to call a cab, and her Mom had said she'd be out at a Christmas concert until ten. Quinn checked her watch hopefully but it was only a little after nine. With an hour to kill before she could call her Mom for a ride, Quinn debated where to go. Ominous looking clouds were threatening snow and Quinn wasn't dressed for the cold weather.

Puck's house was only three blocks from the high school, and almost without realizing it, Quinn found herself standing in front of her alma mater. Automatically, she headed around the side of the building, to the entrance by the locker rooms. As a Cheerio, she'd had to attend weekend practices and as captain there were times she'd had to be at school before dawn. The layout of the school was such that access to the gymnasium, locker rooms, and auditorium could be gained from the side entrance, but an internal door separated them from the rest of the school building, and this was kept locked out of hours. This meant that the gym and locker rooms could be opened up, if desired, for sporting and social events without giving students access to the rest of the school.

Sue Sylvester had given Quinn the security code to the door, and she punched it in hopefully, praying that it hadn't changed. The door beeped and she heard the snick of the latch releasing. Rationalizing that it wasn't really breaking and entering since she had the door code, Quinn stepped inside the building. It was dark and empty but Quinn knew the school building like the back of her hand. She turned on the corridor light, more out of habit than necessity.

She wandered aimlessly down the hall before ending up in the auditorium. Smiling to herself as she remembered the many glee club performances, she flipped a couple of the light switches and headed down to the stage. She sat down on the edge of the stage and crossed her ankles, staring out over the rows of empty seats.

She was still hurting over Santana's admission, despite telling Santana that she understood. She'd felt so happy and accepted earlier that evening with Santana's parents, but now she was out in the cold again. She swallowed hard, wondering why Santana had been so reluctant to tell Brittany about them. Quinn knew Santana loved her, but she couldn't help but feel that her girlfriend didn't trust her. She sniffled as she wiped angrily at tears that spilled down her cheeks, losing track of time as her thoughts took her around and around in circles until she started to feel dizzy.

A scraping sound behind her on the stage finally snapped her out of her reverie. She jumped and twisted around, her heart pounding in her chest, as her mind flashed through a million possibilities, none of which proved to be correct, as she laid eyes on the person standing behind her, smiling softly.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Author's Note: Again, thank you so much for all the feedback so far, I'm so happy people seem to be enjoying the story! Today's update is earlier than usual, but this will be the last update for a couple of weeks I'm afraid as I'm off on vacation and I won't have access to a computer or time to write... I hope that the rest of the story will be worth the wait (I haven't written it yet so I can't promise, but I hope so! LOL)_**

**Chapter Six: A Little More Conversation**

"Hey," Brittany said softly, her crooked smile widening as she sat down beside Quinn on the edge of the stage, swinging her feet and drumming her heels against the wooden panels.

"How did you know I was here?" Quinn asked wonderingly, bypassing the pleasantries due to her surprise. Her heart thundered in her chest and she took a deep breath to regain her composure. Brittany merely shrugged.

"You left a light on, I saw it from outside," she explained simply. "Also, I'm a genius now - the people at MIT said so." Quinn giggled, despite her sadness.

"You always were a genius, B."

Brittany placed an arm around Quinn's shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. The embrace was warm and comforting. Quinn breathed in deeply; Brittany smelled like cotton candy and sunshine, and Quinn had always associated the scent with innocence. It suited Brittany perfectly.

"So, I talked to Santana," Brittany admitted, fixing her blue-eyed gaze on Quinn impassively. "She told me everything. I can't believe I didn't realize that you were Lebanese too. I'm usually pretty good at these things. I mean, I figured you were curious when you were dating that Joe girl during senior year, but I never guessed you and Santana would start having sweet lady kisses."

"Are you okay with that?" Quinn asked nervously, her hands suddenly clammy. She clasped them restlessly in her lap. "You and Santana have so much history…" She broke off and sighed. "I'm sorry Santana didn't tell you sooner."

"Me too," Brittany agreed. "I told Santana I was mad at her for keeping you a secret. I wish she'd told me earlier, but I kind of understand why she didn't."

"Do you?" Quinn met Brittany's gaze with questioning eyes. "Because I don't, and I don't think that Santana does, and that's what hurts. Sh-she doesn't trust me." She'd said the words out loud and a sudden rush of emotion surprisingly overwhelmed her. The flood gates opened and Brittany's strong arms embraced her while she cried.

Brittany remained silent for a few minutes, rubbing Quinn's back soothingly and waiting for her to pull herself together. Quinn felt guilty for falling apart on Brittany, she chided herself for not being stronger – Brittany had just found out that her first love had moved on to someone new, and here she was comforting Quinn, when it should have been the other way round.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to convey in two simple words everything she was feeling but not knowing how to say it.

"Thank you," Brittany replied, and with one glance into Brittany's open, trusting face, Quinn knew she understood. Quinn had meant what she'd said a few minutes earlier – she always had thought Brittany was a genius. Maybe not in an academic sense, but the way the girl could read and understand people was truly a gift.

When Quinn finally wiped her eyes and took a deep shaky breath, Brittany simply continued to talk as though there'd been no break.

"She loves you," Brittany said softly. "More than you know. If she didn't love you, she would've told me sooner."

Quinn's brow puckered, and she shook her head. Okay, so if seeing into a person's soul was Brittany's strong point, maybe logic wasn't so much.

"You've lost me," she acknowledged finally. Then it was Brittany's turn to frown.

"No I didn't," she said, confusion clouding her expression. "I found you, here, in the auditorium. I was looking for you because Santana told me what she'd said, and I knew what you'd be thinking… but you're wrong."

"How?" Quinn asked hopelessly.

"After Santana and I broke up, we agreed on a full disclosure policy," Brittany explained. "At first, I didn't think we could do that since we were broken up and I thought we should keep our clothes on, but then Santana told me that it meant we'd be honest with each other if either of us met anyone else. So, I told Santana when Sam and I got together and she told me about the girls she met at Louisville, and then in New York. All except you."

"So, why does that mean she loves me?" Quinn asked, feeling, as she often did during conversations with Brittany, that she was wading through treacle.

"Because those girls meant nothing to her," Brittany told her. "Santana's not very good at talking about her feelings, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have them."

"I know," agreed Quinn, smiling ruefully. Santana's abrasive personality was a front to keep people from getting too close, but once you got past that, Santana loved more passionately than anyone else Quinn had ever known.

"So you know that she talks a lot about things that don't matter, but when she feels something too deeply, she shuts it down," Brittany said, in the same sing-song tone she would be using if they were talking about the weather. "She backs off from it, because if she really admits how much she feels it, then she's opening herself up to getting hurt. She's a lot like you actually."

Quinn nodded, as Brittany's words started to make a little sense. She and Santana _were _a lot alike. She'd known that for years, and it was a part of the reason they'd been so competitive with each other during high school.

"I'm her best friend," Brittany continued to explain. "Telling me would be like admitting it to herself. Also, I saw the way she looked at you when I got to the party. She used to look at me like that, and I know she loved me… but she loves you even more. I could see it in her eyes. She's not mine anymore, she's yours."

"Are you okay with that?" Quinn asked, her mind still reeling as she tried to process Brittany's monologue.

"I want Santana to be happy," Brittany said, nodding her head, and reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Quinn's ear. "And you make her happy… at least I think you would if you'd both just stop crying and holding back and talk to each other instead. I know Santana hurt you, and I know what that feels like. But don't give up on her, okay? She's worth fighting for."

Quinn nodded and blinked away fresh tears, concentrating on staring at her feet so that she wouldn't have to look into Brittany's unwavering expression.

"She really is," she agreed.

"You love her too," Brittany noted, without even a hint of questioning. She stated it as fact, and her voice was tinged with sadness. "Make each other happy, Quinn. Promise me. I made Santana promise too."

"I promise," Quinn said hoarsely and Brittany smiled at her softly.

Following their heart-to-heart, Brittany and Quinn headed back in the direction of Puck's house, where Brittany had asked Santana to wait for her. As they approached, Santana leapt up from her vantage point on the porch steps and ran up to them anxiously. The party inside was going full swing and a pounding music beat drifted out through the open door.

"I found her," Brittany said brightly to Santana, whose eyes were fixed firmly on Quinn. "And now I've told you both that you need to stop trying to protect yourselves and talk to each other. Trust each other." She hugged each of them lightly, then wrinkled her nose. "San, you're freezing," she complained, pouting slightly and shivering. "Oh, that's my favorite song. I'm going to dance. I haven't been to nearly enough parties since I started college. We'll catch up soon, okay?" And with that, hurricane Brittany dashed off into the house, leaving Quinn and Santana staring awkwardly at each other on the lawn.

"San, I…" Quinn began, just as Santana opened her mouth and started to speak. Both girls stopped, and Quinn bit her lip nervously.

"I'm sorry," Santana said hurriedly, clasping Quinn's hand in hers. Quinn reacted automatically to Santana's ice-cold grip by retracting her hand and her girlfriend immediately looked crushed.

"Brittany's right, you are freezing," Quinn said, stepping forward to gather Santana into her arms, feeling her shiver as she pulled her in tightly. She rested her forehead against Santana's and sighed. "So, do you realize that tonight was our first fight since we got back together?"

"Is that what this is?" Santana asked in a small voice. Quinn couldn't ever remember her sounding so vulnerable, even in the initial conversations after their previous break up. "A fight?"

"What did you think it was?" Quinn coaxed gently, rubbing her hands up and down Santana's arms in an attempt to warm her up. Santana didn't answer, but Quinn didn't need her to. The scared look in Santana's dark eyes told her what she needed to know. "Santana, couples fight. That's all this was. You did something dumb, but it's not unforgivable. I've done way worse and we're still here." She felt Santana start to relax against her as her words sunk in.

"Are we okay?" Santana asked hopefully. Quinn nodded, her forehead still pressed against Santana's.

"We're okay," she confirmed. "But Brittany's right. I have to stop running away when things get tough… and you, you have to let me in. You need to be able to tell me things, even if you think it might hurt me or make me mad."

"What else did Brittany say to you?" Santana asked, as she wound her arms around Quinn's neck, and brushed her lips lightly against Quinn's. Quinn felt a rush of warmth that made her forget all about the cold night air, and she smiled against Santana's lips.

"She's a smart girl," she murmured and Santana chuckled.

"I've always thought so," she agreed.

"She told me you love me," Quinn admitted, closing her eyes shyly so she didn't get to see Santana's reaction.

"I do love you," Santana said simply. "You know that." Her voice was hoarse with emotion as she spoke, and Quinn could feel the sincerity in her words.

Feeling braver than she had in a long time, Quinn was able to voice her fears.

"I want to believe that," she said quietly, looking down at the frozen ground, "but you don't trust me, not completely."

"I'm sorry," Santana said earnestly. "I want to trust you, but it's not easy for me."

"Because of what I did last summer," Quinn said flatly. "It's okay, I understand."

"No you don't." Santana reached her hand under Quinn's chin and coaxed her head up so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "It has nothing to do with last summer. It's just me – I have a hard time trusting people. But I want to trust you, I hope that means something."

"It does." Quinn's voice trembled with emotion. "And I promise I'll do what I can to earn your trust."

"I love you, Quinn Fabray," Santana said, enunciating each word slowly and clearly. "I need you to believe that I do."

"I'm starting to," Quinn admitted. "Talking with Brittany helped. I guess, I still can't believe that I could get so lucky. I'm always waiting for something to go wrong or for you to change your mind about us. That's why I freaked out tonight, I thought that you were getting cold feet about being with me. I don't always feel like I deserve you." As she spoke, snowflakes began to fall around them, landing on the hard, cold ground and quickly settling around their feet. Quinn laughed to herself at the absurdity of their current situation. They were standing on Puck's front lawn at eleven o'clock at night in the snow, having one of the most open and honest conversations she'd ever had in her life. Santana smiled and Quinn knew she was thinking the same thing.

"That makes two of us," Santana replied. "But I think we should give ourselves a break. I mean, we are fabulous after all, so why shouldn't we deserve each other? Why shouldn't we get to be happy?"

"True." Quinn snickered and snuggled closer against her girlfriend, delighting in the way Santana's dark hair glittered with snowflakes. Despite her desire to remain wrapped up in Santana's arms, it had been a long, emotional day and she couldn't help but stifle a yawn. Santana noticed and grinned.

"Am I keeping you up, Cinderella?" she teased and Quinn pouted.

"No, but I think I'm getting hypothermia," Quinn replied evenly. "Drowsiness is one of the first signs, isn't it?"

"Do you want me to take you home?" Santana asked softly. Quinn shook her head, and planted a brief kiss against Santana's lips.

"Not even a little bit," she murmured, before capturing Santana's mouth in a deeper, longer kiss that made them both forget about their fight, the cold night, their friends partying on obliviously inside the house. The only thing they cared about in that moment was each other.


End file.
